Chains of the heart
by The unwritten promise
Summary: He is my torturer; my capturer; my deadly secret and my favourite sin. He owns me, and I have to come to terms with and accept that. But he will never be my Master! (warnings inside)
1. New Stock

**Title: Chains of the heart**

**Summary: ****He is my torturer; my capturer; my deadly secret and my favourite sin. He owns me, and I have to come to terms with and accept that. But he will_ never_ be my Master!**

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason! Akuroku - very dark. Torture and sexual themes are included in later chapters. Other side-pairings will be included. **

**AN: **Okay, this is a new fic I came up with and plotted out. I'm not sure if many people will enjoy it, but it will be a dark akuroku fic, approximately fifteen to twenty chapters long. Hopefully people will enjoy, and I hope nobody is offended by some of the content that may be contained within this story. If so, please PM or review me and I will do my best to solve the issue. Thanks!

* * *

He was in chains again.

Tight about his throat, his wrists, his ankles, they chaffed and cut sensitive skin until it dripped a brooding red and bruised like a battered peach. The room was one of many in the man castle, and it wasn't the first time he had been chained deep within the bowels of stone and concrete rubble. There was no sky where the stone covered, there was no soft grass or simple streams or trees of branching beauty. No, within the man castle there was only vicious torches scorching black up a brick wall, distant drips of water and sweat leaking past peeping holes, and the thick vibe of disgust and secrets whispering silent echoes down shallow halls.

The restraints had him against the wall, just enough so he could move a pace in either direction. The rungs were threaded with the shackles, the end of them coming to rest at the door for his torturer's pleasure.

Sapphire eyes burned at the thought of that word. 'Torturer'. That's what they were to him. They would attempt to have him call them Master, or worse, when the moments became heated and violent, but he would suffer the threaded vines of a thousand whips before he would subdue himself to monsters such as man.

Blonde Neko ears twitched, the hard mouth tightening into a grimace.

They were coming. Footsteps were clapping against the stone floor, breaking only to take pause on a velvet rug, and he could hear them. They were slow, deliberately slow. Slow enough to taunt him into madness.

He twitched, ears pushed back and jaw clenched. Backing against the wall, left foot braced against the stone for a quick, swiping jump at defence, the shackles clinked with laughter at his vain attempts at bracing for a looming attack.

They stopped outside the iron door, clinking the keys. With each rise and fall his heart would pound in his chest and he would involuntarily flinch, his left eye twitching in memorized remorse. They were provoking him again.

The iron latch was caught and the lock clicked, allowing the tormentors entrance, betraying Roxas completely. From outside, bathing the world within, the torches enhanced their glare, permitting spiteful shadows to cast across the floor and scratch at Roxas' boots.

Crouching, trying to fade into the brick but desperate not to show fear, Roxas stared hard at the perpetrators with practiced venom. A growl was bristling up in his throat, released as a wild and feral noise that had the two shadows stopping momentarily.

"It's chained, isn't it?"

The man on the right was confident, laughing with ease in the face of evil and bringing a devilish spark to the room. Caught up in the laughter, the other man joined in, arms folded with a grin boldly smashed against soft pink lips.

"Of course it is, Xemnas! What _do_ you take me for?"

The voice was husky, filled with elaborate toxins that would poison upon contact with one's eardrums. It came from the man on the left. The man with the outrageous red hair pinned back in a slight ponytail and cold aqua eyes that stared right through him and beyond the grimy, bleak wall.

"Take you for, Reno? Surely that's a question you don't want answering."

Reno's face peeked with enjoyment, his arms coming to rest behind his back. "It's a question many would not dare to answer…" His response fell short, and his friend's analytic amber eyes drank in Roxas' form before the light.

The growl was still evident in the room, clawing at Roxas' throat and leaving it raw. The pearly white teeth with canines slightly longer than they should have been where perfectly straight, perfectly clenched. Pale skin, flawless and unspoiled, put the moon outside to shame, and the blonde wisps of silky smooth hair stayed upright and buoyant, lost in a gravity defying vortex intensified by the mud and blood sticking to it, clumping around the wound taken to the back of the boy's head. The grey tunic remained ripped over his left shoulder, releasing white skin to the crisp damp of the room, and the lithe frame remained flawlessly toned, ever a pleasing shape.

He was a fine boy of seventeen. But there was but one slight problem fitting the figure. The boy was a Neko. A demonic cross of civilisation and the unruly wild that had come to be tamed under man's grasp. The Neko ears were both blonde, both folded back, both branding him to what he was. The other features were undetectable. Besides the ears, there was no way of detecting just what the boy was, but they were clearly evident, and there was no way of hiding his shame for that.

Feeling pressing eyes undressing him slowly, Roxas stood taller, straighter, refusing to bow. Xemnas chuckled at the sight of hard eyes, his fingers coming to tap at his chin.

"He's rather nice for one of _them. _The others aren't like him…not at all like him." His hungry words lapped about the room like a whirlpool, drawing them all in. "You sure you won't keep him?"

"Nah," the word was a lazy drawl. With one hand on his hip, Reno used the other to exaggerate Roxas' shape. "Look at him, Xemnas. Unbroken, this one. Feral, even."

"I thought you enjoyed a challenge?"

Roxas stiffened, his muscles tense. He had been known to other tortures as a nuisance; a waste of money; a God unholy mess of a mistake; a useless item and… other, less pleasing to the tongue phrases. Even in his mind he couldn't repeat them.

"I do, but I still haven't broken the other one I bought yet."

A roll of amber eyes left Roxas with a chilling shudder shaking his shoulders. "Then why don't you buy them already broken like the rest of us? You could end up getting hurt, you know?"

The coy smile was back on Reno's face, as if it lived there permanently. "Careful, Xemnas, you almost sound concerned for my wellbeing."

A barely concealed snort behind pale, gargoyle hands was his reply. "Concern? For you? Don't make me laugh, Reno." Golden eyes shot back Roxas' way, the finger still tapping against the chin in thought. "So, if you're not going to keep this one, just what do you plan to do with it? If you aim to sell it, I'll give you five hundred gold pieces right now."

"Five hundred?!" Reno almost chocked on the offer, outrage coming to his face. "I paid four fifty in gold for it from the damn market. I'd barely be making a profit!"

"Perhaps, but this slave is unbroken. I'd be surprised if you could find a higher offer elsewhere at all. Five hundred gold pieces and I'll take it off your hands. I swear to you I'll have it broken within two turnings of the moon."

Reno was thoughtful, considering it for a moment. With arms folded, it was his turn to stare Roxas up and down with those hard azure eyes that burned like the flames licking up the wall. Roxas' heart beat so hard against his chest he feared the other two could hear it. Ears folded back, the growl all but gone, the chains hurt when he moved and left him rendering out hisses.

Reno was amused. "No, I don't think I'll accept your offer, Xemnas. This one's a real beaut, I can get seven hundred for it easy if I just hold out for the right buyer."

"You are madder than I first thought if you feel that anyone will pay anything over five hundred gold pieces for an unbroken slave. These things are dangerous, Reno. Not many people will trifle with them when unbroken."

"True, you're right. But then again, leaving it unbroken leads to an excess of speciality. To buy a slave already broken means to buy a slave for a purpose. Unbroken, they have none. They are the perfect puppets to mould. Some people would pay a lot of money for that."

"Specialisation? Is that what you keep in mind when you purchase stock these days? I thought you were more of a man for the broken stock than the challenge of unbroken. I would be very careful if I were you, Reno. You could end up stuck with this one."

"If I don't shift it by the end of the month I'll break it myself." Malicious eyes turned over to glare at Roxas again. Tossing the keys up, catching them, and repeating the process, Reno had that wicked grin smothered on his lips. "I've never lost a slave yet. This one'll be easy to snap."

"We'll see. If you can't manage it I would be grateful if you'd turn it over to me. Of course, depending on the state of it my price will moderately change. Nothing excessive, but the value does diminish with treatment."

"I'll keep it in mind," Reno hummed, picking out a specific key with a bent edge and jagged end. "Anyway, I've shown you my latest prize, but you were after something different, weren't you?"

"Mm. My latest possession attempted to run from my estate within the depths of darkness. One of my guards panicked and the dogs were released. The tattered remnants are nothing I would desire to keep for a bedroom slave."

"How bad was it?"

"The skin of the left cheek was shorn completely off, an earlobe missing on the right and deep jagged teeth marks guiding the line of the throat. Needless to say it wasn't worth the money to have the specimen repaired. I had the gamekeeper shoot it whilst my other pieces of property watched. It gave them a message, so to speak."

Reno's smile had vanished without so much as a whisper of a word, like a snake heading into grass, it was a deadly, hidden device that could strike with a venomous lashing. The hard mouth showed no sign of letting up, and there was a chill in Reno's voice that had Roxas pressed further against the wall with another growl bouncing around him.

"You had it shot?"

"It was cheaper to buy new rather than have it fixed. So I thought I should come here to see what prized gems you had hidden away. It's a shame this particular one you will not sell to me for five hundred. I could have bent its will and given it a bed."

With a dry throat, the blonde refused to flinch at the prospect that it could have been him running from the bedroom of the cold man. He was almost grateful Reno had held out, but the hatred and revulsion at them both had him reeling in disgust at the thought of thanking them.

With the utmost care for his choice of words, Reno spoke. "As I've said, if by the end of the moon's turn I haven't found a buyer, I'll break him and send word for you to come. Until then I'm afraid I can't accept anything under seven hundred for it. For now all I can do is show you around the others and hope there's one to your tastes."

He held his hand out, guiding Xemnas to the door.

Taking the subtle hint, Xemnas turned his back on the blonde Neko and strode from the cramped room. "I think there may be something adequate enough to appease me. Something beyond sparing control, I should hope."

Following him out, Reno cast Roxas one last smirk with a wink before the iron door was closed. The booming click of the lock sent vibrations through the leaky walls. The torches flickered against an imaginary gust of wind, and by the back of the wall, still unable to move, filled with nervous energy, Roxas waited.

The footsteps grew weaker, heading further up the hall from which they had come. The click of stone finally vanished, and Roxas released a heavy breath he didn't know he had been holding. His shoulders shuddered violently, sagging inwards in submission as the chain about his throat chaffed cruelly.

With aching feet he slid down the stone, shuffling a pace to the left to curl up into the corner. Ears up and alert, breath frosting slightly in the icy room, the chains continuously attempted to tug him back to the middle, refraining him from finding a secure position against the stones.

As if sensing the aching pride and the wounded heart, the torch above finally gave into the fight of the damp, guttering out completely. The darkness ebbed into the room like a chocking fog, scouring all light bar the crack beneath the iron door. Eyes open, unable to sleep for fear his tormentors returned with a change of mind and blackened hearts, he listened to the fake sounds that weren't really there. The scratch of stone; the drizzle of something wet; a squeaking creak and iron locks being bolted further down the hall… where they real? He didn't know. And he didn't want to know.

Knowing only ever made things worse, and, in some small way, he thanked the darkness because it always hid what he knew was coming. That could be a blessing at the worst of times, acting as a shield of protection. It was that shield that hid the pain the tormentors cast; it hid the tears and the biting of the cheek and the quivering lip. Too close had he been to breaking before.

He wouldn't let that happen ever again.


	2. Eventh Estate

His eyes had finally grown accustomed to the darkness when Reno eventually came for him. Roxas had no idea just how long it had been. The hours stretched by as if each was attempting to outdo the other in lasting a lifetime, and his only visitors were the tempered slaves who brought the gruesome food to his cell. They never talked to him. Not in the language of man, nor his native tongue. Instead they stared at him; some watching for a moment longer than they should before their heads would bow, their ears folded with shame against their heads, and they would leave with stooped shoulders and grimaces upon their bruised cheeks.

Roxas never touched the food he was brought. His stomach growled violently, threatening him. He knew eventually it would gorge on itself, and with every passing moment his strength would droop and he would lose his grip on the fading fragments of reality. But at the last second his sharpened instinct would bring him back to the world, the danger ever present in the scathed corners of his mind.

It was just after he had begun to dip slowly to the left with sagged shoulders that the lock clicked. He had been so out of tune with the goings on around him that he had failed to notice the clicking of boots on stone, and he mentally scolded himself for letting his defence wilt. Picking himself up, holding himself with all the muster he could, he released what he hoped was an intimidating growl, cobalt eyes still burning.

Reno slipped into the room, torch in one hand, keys in the other. The slick red hair was as vibrant as always, pulled back away from his face with only a few strands loose to grace his forehead. Soft lips entered with a grin, caught sight of Roxas, and immediately forged into a solid frown. The sapphire eyes that were once laughing were cold.

Placing the torch into a holster, pocketing the keys, his arms were folded across his chest quicker than Roxas could blink.

"You know, you keep starving yourself and I don't think you're going to make it to the end of the month."

The growl intensified, and the smirk plastered itself against red lips. Sapphire eyes closed, and there was a slight shake of amusement hidden there.

"I know, I know, you don't trust me. Heh, why should you, right? I have you in chains. But trust me, if I wanted you dead I'd think of more creative ways than poison. If you're trying to prove something to somebody, you're not doing a very good job." Blue eyes opened and stared at the once charming figure before him.

The weight had all but dropped from the boy. What had once been deliciously touchable smooth skin when he had first bought him was now skin and bone, so sharp he could see most of it clearly. Pale flesh that once outshone the moon was a pasty yellow coated in sweat, and the vibrant hair full of bounce was flat and lifeless. The Neko trembled at the knees from continuously standing, and the deep purple rings under his eyes gave away the countless hours of sleepless nights. In a word, the boy was unrecognisable.

When examining eyes paused for a heartbeat too long another growl fetched itself from cracked lips. Backing away, the chains scratching at crusted wrists, Roxas felt his back hit the grimy wall, but still he tried to edge further into it.

Reno sighed, a roll of his eyes giving all of the emotions away. "You know, I really will be sorry to see you go. I haven't had one as nice as you in a long time. You're stubborn, I'll give you that, and you're a real pain in the arse to contain, but it was nice…having something different for a change, I suppose. It was good to have some fight back in this place instead of walking these halls with zombies and butt kissers." He laughed at his own joke, rubbing at his forehead almost delicately. "But your buyer wants you shipped out as soon as possible. Funny, he didn't even want to examine you."

Roxas stayed as hard as stone, unflinching against the brick.

Reno's heavy sigh bought the blonde's attention for the briefest of moments, but his sympathy remained locked away. "He's a frequent buyer of mine, and he treats his property with some respect, I guess… as long as you do what he says, at least."

The back of the redhead's neck was rubbed at almost tenaciously with his hand. A grimace crossed the line of his mouth, but no sooner had it appeared than it had fled. "He owns an estate, though. Rich guy… good guy, I suppose. You could learn a lot under him, if you catch my drift."

Silence and a scorching glare were thrown Reno's way. With all the strength a Master could summon, the redhead returned it, an eyebrow raised almost questioningly. "You ever gonna open that mouth o' yours and speak? I told the guy you could make noises," he shrugged, "he didn't care if you could talk after that."

A flinch wound itself tightly in knots upon Roxas' shoulders. That _definitely_ didn't sound good…

"But I'm interested, "Reno pressed, head tilted slightly to the side with a cock-sure grin, "… just what would that voice of yours sound like? If it's as pretty as you looked when I first bought you, I'd pay a million gold pieces to hear it."

Something akin to pride prickled up Roxas' spine, but he sent it shamefully back down with a shiver. He didn't need beautiful words to make him blush; they only ever saw that as weakness.

Hocking back what little spit was left inside his dry mouth, Roxas spat it to the floor violently. He was aiming for Reno's face, but dehydration had set itself within him like arthritis, and he could only just manage to have it land at the base of Reno's boots.

Sapphire eyes gleamed and the redhead's smirk was back. "Oh, so it's like that, is it? You know, I think I've been rather fair to you. Sure, I kept you isolated, but I haven't hurt you. I haven't been playin' no mind games or starving you, and I sure as hell haven't _touched_ you…"

There was a grimace wound tight in that voice, but it did nothing to break Roxas' spirit.

Letting his hands fall by his side, almost defeated, Reno cast the blonde one last smirk. "Never mind. They'll be coming for you in the morning, and I won't be around to see you off or nothin'…" he shrugged, the barely detectable ache hidden well beneath that false, blatant smile. "I guess I'll see you around some time… or not." Another shrug followed, more careful than the last.

Turning to the door, Reno slipped out without so much as a glance back. The iron door slammed closed, and the shuffling of feet whispered away from the blonde as he waited by the grubby wall. Holding his breath, not daring to breathe, Roxas' ears flicked slowly upwards.

Reno was gone, thank goodness, and Roxas hoped he'd never have to see the buyer again. Although the man appeared genuine, he had still sold him, and he had still made himself a tidy profit. That much Roxas was sure of. There was no trust in him for man, and he was beginning to slowly lose the faith in his own kind after the way the other slaves had refused to speak to him. It left him with a sinking feeling… a gutless feeling…

He was alone now.

Truly alone.

* * *

Eventh Estate was a place of eternal beauty birthing from spring unto the depths of the frostiest winter. The wildlife teemed within the territorial forest, guarded by the two acre long grassy plains that were decorated with regal trees and ornamental bushes. Guiding the way through the forest was a gravel path made of completely white stone so fine it was like dust falling through the nimblest of fingers.

The estate itself was beyond grand. The central building put castles to shame as it stood in the magnificence of its own presence. The cylindrical front upheld a banister of curved marble with intertwined emerald vines slipping delicately down the front. Flat mahogany doors with an ebony knocker in the form of a roaring lion bit at all who entered, drawing first blood. On the far left was the Left Wing: a place of unimaginable wisdom kept in pristine halls bathed in sunlight and shadow. To the right, as if named by sheer coincidence, was the Right Wing: guardian to the secret dealings within the caged monster of brick and water and stone.

By the back of the house the garden was an acre wide in diameter and perimeter, guarded by a seventeen foot wall of glass hidden stealthily behind bustling plants of multi-coloured grace. They were gemstones in the summer dew, and frost bitten snares in the winter snowfall.

To all who entered, Eventh Estate was a haven. To almost all who lived there, it was a hell.

The particular climate was muggy. Autumn had snuck its way up the path, trespassing for several months as it did every year. The ground was sodden and clenched in dirt, the white stones dimmed to a prison-grey, and the sky seemed to rumble above with the warning of more showers to come.

Sitting under the balcony by the front doors, his white shirt clinging to his chest in the mild heat, Axel rested with one hand on his knee, staring out over the yard. It really was a beautifully cursed place… one he could never find the strength to leave.

Sliding down another step to rest against the white stairs, he stretched his left leg out before him, his brown trousers tucked into the hem of his boots scruffily, red Neko ears up and alert, just poking out of the wild unruly mess of his hair. It was how his Master enjoyed him. Wilful, carefree, even sarcastic at some points, but always obedient; always faithful. Insincerity and disobedience would not be tolerated within Eventh Estate. His shirt, three buttons undone at the top to show some skin, rolled up at the sleeves, and untucked at the hem, was how he had been told to wear it. The trousers were slack, hanging lowly on the left hip and hugging his waist ever so tenderly, as if afraid to tighten. The tattoos he had been '_given'_ to enhance his image. Another prospect he hated, but another choice he didn't have.

Behind him the mahogany doors peeped open and slithered shut, and with a twitch of furry red ears Axel knew he wasn't alone any more. The footsteps were precise as they crept behind him, the breathing even and fine, as it should be in every Lord's son.

Hanging over Axel's shoulder, the redhead saw the shadow before strong, thin fingers came to scratch the back of his ears, as one would to a pet. Axel had been trained to behave properly; it was expected, after all. So, as his Master's son expected, he tilted his head to the side, closed his eyes and let the scratching continue.

It was an odd sensation, not one he didn't thoroughly enjoy, but also not one he would welcome so easily of his own free will. It tingled with a burn at the base of the left ear, and he had to fight every urge in his body not to twitch or retaliate. Because it was expected.

"It still hasn't arrived?"

The voice was filled with a dead-eyed lustre, something not many people could pull off with such etiquette. The drawl was there, hidden behind a sharp tongue that only slackened when the lights were dimmed to envious shadows, and Axel mentally shuddered at the remembrance of just what that tongue could do.

The redhead waited a split second before answering. Timing was important. He had to seem like he was enjoying the actions, as if the words were painfully dragging him back to a world he would sooner forget. The words were a purr on his tongue, given with a sensitive nibble to his bottom lip.

"Not yet…"

The scratch smoothed out into a stroke, futilely attempting to push back the untameable fire-red mane. "Reno's shipment is late."

Axel dared a shrug of the shoulder, his eyes opening to glance over the rich lush of wildlife. "He said it might take a while. You know Reno, never one for timing."

That was it, just enough sass to earn him a thick laugh. Any more and the soft, smooth stroking would soon become a violent smack, any less and the desired effect would never have been achieved. Daring a glance over his shoulder, ever one for the game of cat and mouse, Axel winked up at Saix.

"Besides, the kid's supposed to be unbroken, remember?"

Saix had a face that was as smooth and emotionless as stone. The only one ever to obtain a smile, or the remnants of a dissected laugh had been Axel, and it was for that reason he had been allowed to keep his rogue tongue. Holding himself with the authority of a king, Saix's blue hair flowed over his shoulders, the scar on his face a proud souvenir he defended to the death. Cruel eyes glanced Axel's way, the laugh faded and that ever-present scowl overtook the strong jawline once more. The stroking stopped, and Axel made sure to count every one of Saix's moves: every step, every misguided glance, every hidden twitch and twinge of muscles and the way his lips almost curled into a sneer were important for judging the next move of the unpredictable figure. Axel had learned that at his second week at Eventh Estate, and, in many ways, it had saved him.

"I'll break him, Axel… I broke you, didn't I?"

Sucking in a breath he hoped went unseen, Axel nodded ever so gently, turning back to analysing the landscape. "Yep."

It was all he could say, all he could think of saying, and all he could manage. He knew he should say more, that he should defend himself with some form of lashing out, but what good would it do? With guards at every corner, dogs bending the turns like ravenous wolves, and the forest beyond ensnared with vicious traps, he knew he wouldn't get far. He'd seen too many slaves buried to risk his own life for an unkempt tongue.

The hand at the back of his head tightened, and Axel's lips curled in a wince.

"You seem… upset."

"Nope," Axel gasped through clenched teeth. He smiled through the pain, eyes closed tight, knowing it was what was wanted. "I'm not upset, Master."

"Hmph." His head was released and jerked forwards violently. "Don't you go forgetting that, Axel. I want you to memorize it."

Smacking Axel upside the head one last time, Saix swept down the gravelled path, his dignity sauntering upon his shoulders. Behind him Axel wasted no time in rubbing the wounded area, tussling his hair even more as he attempted to numb the pain. Peeking an eye open, he glanced ahead to what had saved him from another attack.

A carriage slowly lumbered its way down the ridiculously long path, rocking back and forth as it was guided by two strapping stallions. All in black, it looked as if to be for mourning, and in some ways, Axel reflected, that's exactly what it was. Coming to Eventh Estate was never a death of body, but of spirit and mind-

"Axel, fetch Demyx and the other lout. I want them out before the carriage reaches my feet, understand?"

The order was to be obeyed. Axel wasn't prepared to challenge the demand.

"Yes, Master."

* * *

The carriage finally rolled neatly to a stop just before Saix's feet. The deliverers offered him a quick nod of the head, dressed all in black with cloaks up and covering their faces. Saix refused to give them the same courteous pleasure.

"Is it inside?" he demanded, striding forwards with the confidence of ten men.

"It is, Sir," the carriage driver quibbled, his voice overtaken by the hairy growth of an overbearing moustache. "Unconscious, of course. Just as My Lord sends 'em."

The sneer was as close to a smile as the man would get. The truly twisted grins were reserved only for Axel. "Open it. I want to see it."

"Sir, we was told that the lord of the estate wou-"

"I said open it!"

"Step aside, Saix," a cool and despondent voice ordered. Bristling, his own shoulders flinching, Saix glowered over his shoulder to where his father was striding towards him.

Xehanort, Lord of Eventh Estate, was a fearsomely daunting man no mortal had the strength to defy. His voice had the strongest of challengers quivering; his glare could force the mightiest mountain to crumble; and his actions… even Saix shivered at the recollection of his father's actions. Treading slowly to the carriage, his eyes as cold as onyx, Xehanort held his head high.

Beside him, following to be used when called, Axel, Demyx, and Marluxia shuffled against the gravel, Axel with his head high and the other two with fearful glances at the ground. They were never favoured like Axel, but they each received their time equally. Xehanort was always generous with time.

Begrudgingly, Saix stepped back, watching his father overtake the situation like a god in a temple. Xehanort cast his son a quick scowl before his broad shoulders were rolled backwards. He turned in black and gold trimmed clothes to Reno's men, his mouth a cruel line.

"Let me see what has been sent. I was told the specimen to be beyond fine. I paid enough in gold, I should expect my money's worth."

The men bowed, stumbling backwards and shoving at each other to be the first to reach the carriage door. With a huff and several heaves, something, or rather _someone,_ was dragged out. Unconscious, the body sagged between two of the men, falling to its knees hard against the gravel. Holding the blonde Neko up with ease, the men offered Xehanort a grin.

Xehanort's expression never changed. He was a brutish man, a man of unquestionable power and prowess, and he was not impressed. The boy before him was a lifeless shadow of what he had been promised.

Reno had called the boy a gem. A fallen star that he'd come across in the bedraggled wrath of a rough-spun market. He had been promised a young Neko, fresh faced, spirited, wilful, unbroken and completely new to any and all trades. What Xehanort saw was a weed of a boy, unconscious, with drooped ears and sunken eyes. Blood skimmed across his vision and his fists clenched uncontrollably, his knuckles cracking.

"What…" he let the word hang in the air, the bite causing all around him, including his own son, to flinch, "… is this?!"

The man on the left struggled beneath the bellow, fighting for the courage to speak.

"N-No, My Lord, trust me, t-this," he gestured to the unconscious figure, "this is not how it always is! We've seen it!"

Behind the backs of Xehanort and Saix, Axel raised an eyebrow and cast Demyx and Marluxia a glance. Demyx raised his eyes and offered him a quick shrug before his stare fell back to the floor, his dirty blonde ears folded back against his messy hair. Marluxia was less swift. He gazed hard at the unconscious blonde, lost for a moment before his eyes were cast back Axel's way in eager excitement. He nodded, pink ears up as he returned to watching the stone path.

"Show me," Xehanort barked, his hard glare never leaving the slumped figure. Behind him the gold trimmed cape flew in the updraft of the wind, and the grunt at the back stumbled for something hanging from the carriage.

The man on the left smiled a toothy grin that was far too sweet. "L-lord Reno said this might, er… might h-happen. Heh, he tends to drug them hard, yanno? Keep them knocked out for the whole ride. But you'll see! He's a fighter this one."

"I was not promised a fighter," Xehanort corrected him, "I was promised spirit."

The man on the left nodded humbly, his head bowing as the third man brought over a bucket of chilled water. Behind them Axel, Demyx and Marluxia winced. Freezing water was _always_ a bad way to wake up. No matter the type of weather or the situation.

With an unceremonious dip, the grunt drenched the poor blonde figure completely, jumping back at the frightened yelp that kick-started in the Neko's throat like a nasty alarm. Shocked to his wits, blue eyes opened like steel, the cry turning instantly into a growl as he was pulled forwards and slammed back to his knees ferociously.

Holding on tight to the twisting arms, the two men on either side grunted, sinking their nails in hard. With a snarl Roxas jerked his hands downwards, dragging the two men with him before he extended his fist again jaggedly, catching the man on the right under the chin. The connection cracked loudly, the man wailed, and Roxas' arm was free.

Seizing the opportunity with all of his strength, Roxas jerked his other arm free, shoving the man back hard so he landed with the third, toppling them both in an unceremonious pile. Never one to hang around, sapphire eyes filled with relief, a snazzy, half-caught smirk bolted itself onto lush lips, and Roxas sprinted across the field.

His feet hammered hard against the ground, but his heart out beat them, shouting his pulse in his ears. The wind whipped against his face, a pleasant feeling after so long cooped within the glum confinements of his cell, and it froze the water to his shirt and skin. A laugh almost brewed itself within his throat, _almost,_ but he daren't celebrate his victory just yet.

Behind him, tending the bruises and blood in their shame, the three grunts stared after the Neko with wide eyes, shuffling back against each other as Xehanort marched forwards, the brush of a grin etched on his lips. With his hands on his hips, he released a bold, indignant laugh, and with a frown Axel feared he knew why.

The kid had fire alright, but it was all messed up in his startled daze. How far was he expecting to get, really? He had two acres to cover before he met the forest, and Axel would bet he hadn't been outside in a long time. Running from Eventh Estate was impossible, all of them knew that.

Saix watched as the Neko covered three quarters of the first acre, a glower set across his sharp eyes. "Father, just how far are you going to allow it to run?"

With one last breathy snort, Xehanort turned down to glare at the three grunts. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go fetch it already!"

"B-but… but, sir, we-"

"I said bring that boy back!"

Scattering to be the first up, the three grunts chased after the blonde. They were in finer shape than Roxas, all of them well-muscled and toned, blanketed in black. They would have no problem catching up to the boy that had not seen fresh air for the best part of a fortnight. No, they most certainly would not.

"Father…this one-"

"This one is not for you, Saix." Xehanort growled, his arms folding roughly. "You have your pet," Axel winced at the name, "and you have your pick of the others, but this one is not for you. Am I understood?"

It was the first time in a long time Saix had been denied something, and the first time in a long time Axel had seen his nose scrunch up like a sulking three-year-old. It was so delicious to see that it very nearly had him grinning behind them. But he withheld it, fearing the attack that would come if they saw.

"Yes, father."

In the distance, just by the breadth of the second acre, Axel watched with a small grimace as the boy was tackled roughly about the knees. Although he kicked out, he was overpowered by sheer force. The grunts struggled, another punch finding its mark against the same man's broken nose before the punch was given straight back hard across the boy's cheek. Axel bristled, and beside him he could feel Demyx tense. Sure, maybe the attack had been deserved, but three on one was a pretty crummy fight, and a small part of him had been hoping the kid would make it out, even though he knew it was impossible.

The boy was being dragged back across the acres, but despite the rush of blood catching across his face, he still struggled with a vicious ferocity Axel hadn't seen for a long time. It would have been admirable, if it wasn't so foolish. The growls and snarls were so loud they could be heard across the land from where they stood, but Xehanort was no longer interested.

"I want this one broken."

"Yes, fa-"

"Not by you, Saix," Xehanort grumbled, his hands resting behind his back as a cruel simmer of a smile crept on his lips. "I have seen your methods and their results are less than orthodox. I want the boy to break, I do not want it to die."

"I woul-"

"I will not hear of it, Saix!" Xehanort roared. Slowly, as if kicked, Saix backed away into submission, his cheeks flaring with embarrassment. "I want this one as my own. I want it broken just enough so there's a fight, but I want it bowing under me. It is for my room and mine alone, am I understood?"

"Yes, father." Saix spat, cold eyes watching as the boy attempted to sprint off again only to have his legs swept out from under him. "Who will break it then? Are you hiring a trainer?"

"Perhaps…" Xehanort nodded slowly, the smile still floundering like it shouldn't belong. "But for now I would like to try a different approach. Have our three finest called to my room within the hour."

"Three finest?"

"I want them by my room. I want this slave broken to my standards. Why waste perfectly good money on a trainer when I can have our best teach it all it will need to know?"

Saix almost chocked on the air he was breathing. "Father, you cannot be serious?! If this boy is to be broken then it needs to learn the correct methods of-"

"And so each of our slaves has been trained in a different order to the task they would perform for mine and my accomplice's pleasures. Instead of teaching this one something new, I would have it be taught what the others already know."

Inhaling a shaky breath, Saix struggled to come to terms with the mismatched logic. Clenching his jaws, he found himself biting at the inside of his cheek. "And which of these slaves, pray tell, will be taken from rota until this one is broken?"

"I want Nine."

Demyx's ears pricked up at his codename, but he dare not move his eyes from the floor in fear that either of them turned back to him. Soft azure eyes remained puzzled, but the questions were never spoken, and so the answers went unfound.

"Your regulars will be unhappy. He was popular with one particular guest, as I recall."

"My accomplices and their needs are none of your concern, Saix. Do as I say, and all will be well, I assure you. I will deal with the cretin I allow within this estate."

"Of course," Saix muttered, distaste hanging heavy on his tongue. "And the others?"

"I want Fifteen."

"Sora?" Saix repeated, disbelief tightly strung in the pronunciation of every word. "But-"

"Do not make me repeat myself, Saix. It will not be a pretty bloodbath."

Saix settled uncomfortably into the submission he was unused to, bile rising up in his stomach. "And the last?"

"Eight."

This time Saix did choke, and it was on his own tongue as he struggled for a platform to fight on. Behind them, earning himself a simultaneously confused stare from Demyx, Axel frowned. Eight was his codename, but he had never trained another slave before. Sure, he'd shown a few others the ropes; the do's and don'ts of the estate to help them survive a little longer, but he had never taken an unbroken slave and had to snap them. Heck, he didn't _want _do it! For once, he was hoping Saix would fight his corner with the diligence and snarky, black wisdom he so often called upon for.

"Father, you cannot be serious?! Eight is mine, and as such-"

"Eight will be off rota for three weeks. Surely you can find some other way to solve your personal problems until then, Saix."

The blonde Neko had almost been dragged fully back to them. Tensing, his cheeks ablaze, Saix struggled to grasp some form of honour and dignity when it was so tempting to clench his fists, stomp his foot and almost _demand_ that his father reconsider his choice. But Xehanort was not above beating some sense into his own son, and so Saix bit at his tongue until it wept a crimson river.

Finally, with heaving breaths and a yelp when another kick landed against one of their shins, the three grunts managed to bring the Neko back to Xehanort's feet. Again, as if experiencing violent déjà vu, Roxas was shoved down to his knees and held firmly in place.

He had been _so_ close. He had almost smelled the forest pines and the sap of honey hanging from the trees like a rich batter. But his joy had been short-lived. Now he struggled to fight for every breath, his chest rising and falling so hard it battered his ribcage. His lips were curled into a snarl, the blood weeping from the broken bridge of his nose were it trickled faintly and itched with the fire of a thousand imploding stars. Caught between breaths, his shoulders held down and his arms twisted behind his back, his frame shivered under the depleting adrenaline that left him just as quick as it had come.

Something rough and lined with scars came to rest under his chin, tilting it upwards. Holding Roxas' head up between his finger and thumb, Xehanort waited with analytical pause. Golden hues poured into blue, and Roxas wasted no time in jerking his chin back, a fresh growl thick from his throat.

"Well," Xehanort gave pause and reached for Roxas' chin again, "Reno definitely delivered on spirit. It seems the lustre is lacking, though."

His fingers were mere inches from reaching Roxas' chin once more. The blonde glanced at them wearily, ears folded back. Like a caged animal, his nose crinkled ever so slightly despite the pain and small white canines were exposed. A warning, Axel recognised. If the boy had any sense left in him he'd put those teeth away before a black eye accompanied that broken nose.

But Roxas' sense had vanished, and panic had usurped his mind's throne. The growl took on a dangerously low pitch. Xehanort recognised, but ignored it, opting instead for continuation.

Roxas snapped. The confusion, the madness, the growing proximity of that hand and the restraints holding him down were too much. Sharp white teeth met the soft webbed skin between finger and thumb in a piercing bite. The attack was swift. Fast. No sooner had blood been drawn that Roxas had released the flesh, spitting the blood on his lips out onto the white pebble ground.

Xehanort never so much as flinched. A broad smirk brought itself to his face, a rumbling laugh of his own placing Roxas' growl in a shameful corner. Reaching forwards faster this time, his hand pouring with blood and staining the blonde's white neck, he held the chin roughly, ignoring the threat in cobalt eyes.

"Ha! You have some fight left still. Don't worry, we'll soon have that snapped out of you." Releasing Roxas' chin with a rough jerk, he lifted his hand to the three behind him, the red pouring down his arm. "Come."

Obediently three stepped forwards. Out of shame rather than obedience, Axel lowered his own eyes in a mirror reflection of Demyx and Marluxia, cool jades settling on white gravel.

Roxas' blonde ears pricked upwards, confusion imbedded into him with the makings of fear re-made. They were like him, all of them Neko's, but there was a difference between himself and them. A difference he would never let be broken. They were just like the slaves in Reno's manor, and they had been translucent shadows even by the grim light of the torches.

"I want you to take this one and settle it in the Right Wing. No mistakes."

They nodded, a chorus of "yes, Master" ringing around the small group. Demyx and Marluxia stepped forwards, reaching out to take hold of Roxas' thin arms. Overtaking the grunt's duties, they pulled Roxas to his feet, catching him as he attempted to bolt again. Dragging him up the path, ignoring the digging of his heels into the thick white stones, they slowly made their way towards Eventh Estate.

"Eight, Nine," Xehanort called, taking pride in the flinch from two sets of shoulders. Carefully, jade and azure eyes turned back to him, Demyx still hanging on tight to Roxas' arm. "Do not forget. One hour and I want you outside my room. Understand?"

They nodded, another chant of "yes, Master," bringing itself about them disgracefully, coating them in the grime of the sale of their own souls. Every time those words were uttered, every time they were forced from their mouths, something inside them broke a little further, dimming down to washed out embers.

Axel trailed behind the duo as they dragged the newcomer to Eventh Estate. He didn't want to catch sight of those burning eyes again. The betrayal there was too thick, and he didn't need any more guilt piled up onto his overflowing plate. Together they brought the blonde into the finely furnished hall of Eventhe Estate, sealing his fate within the wretched place once and for all.


End file.
